


if i kissed you

by archekoeln



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Drabble Collection, F/M, Interconnected Drabbles, Original Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur Child(ren), winter drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archekoeln/pseuds/archekoeln
Summary: "What if I kissed you?" Gabriel asks."Then do it." Nathalie answers.ora drabble collection of gabenath kisses
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65
Collections: GNBCAAC Winter 2020 Prompts





	1. fluffy's first christmas

**Author's Note:**

> a bitch might have been inspired to write little winter drabbles after seeing the prompts list over the gn server even though she has more work than she can finish and more backlog fics she still needs to read oops.
> 
> (she might have also been planning on writing a series of kissing drabbles between our favorite villain square but that's here nor there)
> 
> so, you know, why not mash that together?
> 
> unbeta'd! the title is taken from 'sleeping beauty' by a perfect circle!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: fluffy’s first christmas / a chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company / hawknath
> 
> ft. a fluffy who barely realizes its christmas, mixed company meaning the fluffy, and technically hawknath because gabriel does not transform back from being hawkmoth so that's my justification

The child in her hands, small and fragile and light, astounds her.

Nathalie would never think to harm him, not when bright blue stare at the dark sky, mirroring the sheen of glittering stars; not when he's taken by the thin clouds hanging high, by the twinkling of snowflakes hitting moonlight, barely seen but they're all the same.

Curiosity. Wonder. 

Nathalie wants her child to explore the world. In her arms, at the top of the manor, he feels all-powerful and omnipresent, even when he is nothing but a babbling child held tightly by his mother. The thrill aches something deep in the marrows of Nathalie’s bones, as though she feels what her baby boy feels. 

Dominic coos, reaching upwards. His hands make motions to grab at the clouds. At the snow slowly falling. At the stars so far out of reach.  _ Open, close, open, close. _

Nathalie wants to give all of it to him. She wants to reach up for him. 

His eyes crinkle at the sight of his mother's face and he lets out sounds that make Nathalie laugh. He is so, so small, but he is also so, so large in her life now that she doesn’t think she would never be able to live without him.

Sometimes, she wonders if she deserves him. Sometimes, the thought intrudes and she spends the next hour staring at him,  _ her child, _ awed and enamored and totally, inexplicably in love; in a way that she has never been before. 

* * *

Gabriel arrives a few minutes after midnight, clad in the deep purples of Hawkmoth. He approaches the mother and child on the roof of his home, brows furrowed at the lackadaisical way they are both out, embraced by the cold chill of the air.

“It seems like we've been found, little one,” Nathalie titters, just as Dominic stops and turns to the new figure settling beside Nathalie. He is silent, almost appraising, watching closely how this new person kisses the smiling lips of his mother.

The kiss itself is quick, a small peck, before Hawkmoth steps back to look at the child in her arms.

All at once, Dominic starts once again, unminding the mask that covered most of Hawkmoth's face. He smiles, small enough, but it still makes Dominic sputter, delighted, hands poised towards him. Grabbing motions, hands opening and closing, little fingers trying so hard to reach for Gabriel.

Nathalie hands over her son, gently, and Gabriel takes his son, gently. Their fingers brush— but that’s normal; it has been for the last few months.

“How did the patrol go?” she asks, as her fingers brush against his, as he holds Dominic with a softness that was almost lost to him if they hadn’t found their way and if their little boy hadn’t come to their lives.

“Adrien wishes to extend his greetings,” he says instead. Nathalie decides not to pursue the question. Fair enough that he wouldn’t want to talk about anything related to  _ work  _ when Dominic bats his hands at his face, at the mask that covers it, attempting to pull the silver cowl. 

The child’s actions only make Hawkmoth smile and the motion, however small it is, is not lost on Nathalie. “He and Marinette will be visiting for lunch later,” he continues.

She hums. She knows seeing both Adriend and Marinette later will brighten up Dominic’s day. Dominic continues his one-man (one-baby?) crusade against Hawkmoth’s mask, unminding his parents. Nathalie shifts closer to Hawkmoth, basking in the warmth that he exudes. 

“I think it’s time both of you head inside,” he mutters. 

Nathalie looks at the thin layer of snow at their feet and giggles. “Five more minutes,” she counters.

Dominic, who has given up on his quest, snuggles comfortably against him. The child’s head falls squarely on his chest, and Nathalie finds her spot beside him, leaning and already drifting to sleep.

“Alright,” he whispers just as Nathalie closes her eyes. He watches both mother and son and feels that inexplicable surge of  _ love  _ that, once upon a time, he had felt with Emilie and Adrien. “Five more minutes then.”


	2. baby it's cold outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: baby it’s cold outside / weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot / gabenath
> 
> ft. this 12am drabble (you know how you have a prompt but immediately don't follow it lol) nonsense and implied sexual intimacy

It is winter and Nathalie is lost in Gabriel’s skin.

The outside is too cold, a paradise of white; wind roaring against their windows with the curtains closed shut. Inside is too hot, the temperature rising as she pulls against the clothing still sticking to her own skin, as she lets him climb over her prone body, as she watches everything with lidded eyes and a burning in the pit of her stomach.

There are a thousand ways to say  _ I love you  _ but they choose not to say anything at all. 

She swallows and kisses his lips, tasting tangerines. Her movements are slow and it feels like she is moving backwards (she isn’t), like he isn’t tasting the same tangerines on her mouth (he is), like everything is blurred behind gossamer, or caked in foundation too light for her complexion.

It is winter and Nathalie is basking under Gabriel’s warmth.

Because it’s cold outside (baby, it’s cold outside) and she would rather stay inside where his large hands fit the spaces of her hips and where they grip tight enough that she doesn’t feel the chill creeping up her spine when she moves and moves and moves to the beating of his pulse, or hers, (or both, when they are this close, how can she really tell which one is which?).

She is pulled from below to sit and she complies. Her head rests on the crook of his shoulders and she kisses the skin as she is moved and moved and moved, head bobbing and mouth reaching for skin and body reacting the way she wants it to.

It is winter and Nathalie is twisting and writhing and churning with Gabriel’s touch.

When she lifts her head to face him, he is blinding. She is stunned to see the lopsided grin on his face; like he has won something more than victory with his adversaries, or with his competition. It looks immaculate on him, happiness, and it makes her heart flutter with that same kind of joy.

She gives him sloppy kisses on his cheeks, on his jaw, and on his mouth; and then she gets her own, until they both reach absolution.

It is winter and Nathalie finds that she is craving. 

Happiness tastes like tangerines, apparently.


	3. gabriel and nathalie having hot chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: gabriel and nathalie having hot chocolate / a kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating / gabenath
> 
> ft. technically, they're drinking and not eating; pre-fluffy fic; and if the ending seems rushed, its because i just wanted them to kiss. thats it. thats.... it

“You know you aren’t allowed to have _any_ coffee.”

Gabriel’s sudden voice startles Nathalie into stillness. She turns around and sees her husband standing by the threshold of the kitchen, looking at her with furrowed brows.

Behind Nathalie, the espresso machine beeps loudly and the enticing smell of coffee engulfs the air.

Her heart beats loudly in her chest. She is empty, armed with nothing but the desperation of tasting one measly drop of coffee on her tongue. It has _only_ been weeks since they’ve known that she is expecting and yet Gabriel insists that she not touch any caffeine whatsoever.

Of course, Nathalie has seen this play out before. Emilie had stories upon stories to tell back then, when Adrien was nothing but a pea inside her. 

But here in the present, she is caught red-handed, and there he is, watching her.

Nathalie’s hands immediately rest on her stomach, and stroking softly, she says, “This is _your_ fault,” without any actual anger in her tone. The swell of her stomach is barely there but all the same, Gabriel’s over-protectiveness is as drastic and dramatic as ever. 

“Don’t blame them for your addiction, my dear,” Gabriel says, approaching Nathalie and placing a hand over hers. “And don’t you worry. I won’t let your mother have this until you come home.”

Nathalie’s lips curl into a frown as she looks away. 

“One cup won’t really be that bad,” she murmurs. The stacks of papers on her desk, all articles relating to caffeine consumption _during_ pregnancy, lay untouched since yesterday. “And it’s _freezing._ At least let me have something to drink that isn’t your raspberry tea.”

“You _love_ raspberry tea,” he argues.

“Maybe I don’t love it anymore,” she shoots back.

The stand-off between them lasts for all of ten seconds as Gabriel walks past her, heading towards the cupboard. She watches him, brows quirked, as he rummages and pulls out three familiar mugs, putting them side-by-side on the counter. 

She recognizes both of theirs ( _Chat Noir_ -themed mugs that Adrien had gifted them, with the only difference the looped names near the face of Chat Noir, apparently signed by the famed hero himself upon Adrien’s request). 

Adrien’s own mug is a _Ladybug-_ themed one, because _of course_ it would be. 

Surprisingly enough, Gabriel has yet to throw any away, even with his dislike for the heroes.

But, regardless, the thought that he is willing to give her what she wants is dashed when he passes the espresso machine in favor of taking out packets of cocoa powder, and some sugar, from another cupboard. 

“Hot chocolate? Really, Gabriel,” she says, her already irritation ebbing away. He smiles at her wryly as he passes her again, this time fishing out a carton of milk from the refrigerator. 

“Hot chocolate with marshmallows. Per Adrien’s request,” he informs her, taking a half-filled pack of marshmallows from, yet, another cupboard and placing everything beside the mugs. Just the mention of Adrien’s name allows Nathalie’s frustration over Gabriel to fully dissipate and her focus quickly shifts to Gabriel’s hands as he expertly mixes everything in. 

Before long, he is pouring the concoction in their mugs, placing small marshmallows on top.

“I didn’t know you even knew how to make hot chocolate,” Nathalie muses, staring at the mug of steaming hot chocolate in her hands.

“My older sister used to make some for us on Christmas Eve. I tried to learn it from her,” he tells Nathalie, sipping his drink. The smile on his face as he watches the marshmallows float bellied a certain nostalgia that she would never be able to fully understand. 

Gabriel looks up to her scrutinizing her mug. “You don’t trust it to be drinkable?”

“You said you _tried._ You’ll have to forgive me for being apprehensive, especially not after the mess you made last night,” she says, almost teasing.

“Well,” Gabriel shrugs, approaching Nathalie. There is that lighthearted smile on his face that she adores so much, that she only gets to see when they are alone. “Let me help you then.” 

“Help ho—”

Before she can even finish her question, Gabriel has already kissed her, full on her lips. Nathalie melts, because that always happens when he surprises her, and then she smiles against his already smiling lips, because that always happens when she is surprised by him; even when it was plainly obvious what he was about to do and she just lets him.

And they just stand there, and maybe Nathalie is already dazed and enjoying herself, until he pulls away to watch her lick her lips clean of that smidge of chocolate. 

His shit-eating grin makes Nathalie blush all shades of red and he leaves her in the room, carrying his mug and Adrien’s.

* * *

The espresso machine is left forgotten as she busies herself drinking from her mug, expecting chocolate, and yet tasting Gabriel instead.


	4. kissing under the mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: kissing under the mistletoe / a kiss pressed to the top of the head / pre-gabenath
> 
> ft. a ghost mistletoe; and the actual kiss that would have been longer but uh yeah

There is a mistletoe hanging above the glass coffin where his wife used to lay, sleeping.

Gabriel can’t help but stare as it dangles loosely in the air. It is fairly obvious even from afar, with its bright green and even brighter red, especially in a place clad with the simple whites that Gabriel thought appropriate for his wife’s pseudo-grave.

It’s… it’s just _there._

Decorating the sanctuary wasn’t an idea he had ever thought, nor would Nathalie attempt it without his order.

Adrien didn’t even want to set foot in the sanctuary so he couldn’t have done so. Besides that, he is way above ground, in his room, humming a Christmas tune under his breath as he readies for the party that they are hosting later that night. Gabriel would rather a quiet Christmas in the atelier, surrounded by his work, but Adrien’s sad smile and Nathalie’s pensive expression coax him to agree to a small gathering.

Or, at least, he hopes it will be small.

There is no doubt in his mind that Adrien’s friends, and of course, the respective families of his friends, will be coming in droves, if only for this night.

Gabriel thinks about the kwamis but immediately disregards the idea. Nooroo wouldn’t be so forthcoming of his insults, if he had the heart to do so in the first place. Dusuu… Dusuu would _likely_ attempt it (as he has done so the past few days) but to put up a mistletoe _in the sanctuary_...

A flash of red crosses his eyes. Gabriel looks up again to see that the mistletoe is gone.

He blinks. It hasn’t reappeared even when he rubbed his eyes raw.

Had he been imagining it?

* * *

The ride up from the sanctuary is quiet and solemn, perfect for the mood he wishes to inspire for the rest of the day. He prefers it from the creaking of the lift when he takes it to the lair, or, the studio. 

Gabriel’s eyes train high above the empty coffin, watching for any flash of red. He cannot wrap his head around the sight of that mistletoe, and it couldn’t be anything _but_ a mistletoe, appearing and disappearing in a startling flash that has him dumbfounded. 

And yet, nothing catches his eyes and before long, he is back in his atelier, listening to the quiet ticking of Nathalie’s keyboard in the background. He lets it lull him, the sound comfortable, until it stops and he hears her speak.

“Sir,” she says. When Gabriel hums to let her know that he has heard her, she continues, “Adrien is waiting for you in the dining area. He has something to say.”

 _Adrien will want to talk to you about tonight,_ is left unsaid but it can be easily inferred with how Nathalie’s expression morphs into amusement. Gabriel would like to do nothing more than to work but Adrien’s bright grin if he shows up now will be an infinitely better sight than whatever design he can conjure in two hours time. 

Nathalie stands up just as he descends his podium. She is first at the door and opens it for him, and as she does, he notices _it._

_There it is again._

There is a (another?) mistletoe above the atelier door, hanging over the small space where Nathalie stood below, breathing and alive. Something about that sight, seeing it over someone whom he held in high regard, compels him to move.

Before he thinks it foolish, or before he second guesses himself, Gabriel crosses the expanse of the atelier to follow Nathalie, but before they cross the threshold to the foyer, he holds onto her shoulders.

“Nathalie, wait a moment,” he says.

Beneath his touch, Nathalie initially stiffens, before relaxing. She turns around to stare at him, bright blue eyes blinking with concern.

His hands are still on her shoulders. She doesn’t make any motions to move them away.

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, there isn’t. I just wanted to thank you for what you’ve done,” he says. For once, there is sincerity lacing his words. But then, he thinks, he has always been sincere when it comes to Nathalie. That is the very least he can be with the way she gives herself so wholeheartedly to his brand and to his family.

A flash of red. Gabriel looks up.

_The mistletoe is still here._

He blinks.

Nathalie mirrors his movements and looks up as well. When her expression shifts to mild confusion instead of a bludgeoning realization, it registers to him that she cannot see the damn plant like he can.

However she looks right now though, urges him to lean in and, after he brushes away that lone strand of hair that continues to evade her own immaculate bun, Gabriel places a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

It’s quick enough that when he steps back, Nathalie has yet to filter her own reaction back to normalcy. Not that she would’ve been able to as fast as she would normally have done; so now, Gabriel is able to see the whole range of emotions that he has invoked in her. 

The bright flush on her pale cheeks is startlingly obvious and somehow, that makes him _smile._

“Thank you, again, for everything,” he says as he passes her, heading to where Adrien is waiting for him.

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that Nathalie’s eyes are following him until he enters the dining room. 


	5. fluffy wants a reindeer for christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: fluffy wants a reindeer for christmas / small kisses littered across the other’s face / gabenath
> 
> ft. dominic the fluffy making an appearance; also, him seeing his parents kiss; also, how the f do you write toddlers

“Papa! Papa!”

Dominic’s voice is unnaturally loud, compared to that of Adrien’s at the age of three. Gabriel swears that both his sons are supposed to be a few rooms away from the atelier, bonding as brothers are to do during holidays. 

And yet, he hears the screeching of his younger son, even through the closed doors of the atelier, and that effectively breaks away his attention from the designs he has been attempting to work on for the past three hours. 

Gabriel looks up from his computer screen just in time to see the doors open, with his youngest son waddling into the room, followed shortly by his older brother. 

Adrien looks like he’s holding in his laughter, shrugging when Gabriel levels a questioning gaze towards him.

“Papa!” Dominic announces with all the confidence of a five-year old child (though he is only three), climbing the steps towards his desk and lifting his arms. Gabriel knows this as his cue to scoop his son, and as he does so, he notices the paper tucked in one of Dominic’s pockets.

Dominic doesn’t settle like he normally would and instead squirms in his arms, patting himself until he is able to pull that piece of paper from his pocket. The triumphant grin that flashes across his chubby little face is enough to distract Gabriel from Adrien, while he remains hovering by the door, content to watch the ongoing spectacle that was Gabriel’s attempt at holding his brother while  _ also _ making sure that they don’t fall to the ground.

“Reindeer! Papa!” Dominic wails, shoving the paper in Gabriel’s face. “Dominic wants a reindeer!”

Upon closer inspection, the piece of paper… is  _ actually _ a drawing. He is reminded of the one that Adrien had gifted him as a toddler, framed (he had bought a new one after that… incident) on his desk. 

First, he sees himself. He’s the tallest figure after all, blond hair pointing up and a frown that lit up his face. His body consists of scribbles of red and white (he supposes that is his suit). He also assumes that his arms are behind him, given that he can’t seem to see them, unlike the three other figures that are holding each other's hands. 

Beside him stood Adrien, blond hair much more subdued that his father’s. In contrast to Gabriel's expression, Adrien is smiling, teeth shining and grin bright enough even through a drawing. 

Dominic was next in line, between Adrien and Nathalie, the child drawn so small beside his older brother and his mother. His dark hair scribbles of black; his face mirroring that of Adrien’s, smiling and elated. He held hands with Adrien and Nathalie, and for a short moment, Gabriel wishes he was also holding hands with them.

Or at least one of them.

Finally, Nathalie was to the side of Dominic, to the far right of the drawing, with a little smile on her face. Her signature streak was a bright red against the dark of her hair, and her body was mainly scribbles of dark blue. 

The background looks like it had been added by Adrien, houses and trees with straighter lines and cleaner colors. Maybe this is a team effort from the both of them. Gabriel makes a note of buying another frame, just so he can also put this drawing on display. Heaven knows he ought to start keeping anything his son makes.

What really catches Gabriel’s attention the most, however, is the small thing between Dominic and Adrien. Various circles, from what he can tell, with sticks for… arms? Legs? It ended with a big red nose that he assumes to be the drawing’s face. 

“A dog?” Gabriel mutters. 

Dominic immediately lets out a squeal, flailing his arms. “No! That’s a reindeer!” 

He is lost as Dominic repeats himself, insistent on the term. It looks  _ nothing _ like a reindeer, maybe except for the bright red nose on what he assumes as the dog… the reindeer’s face? 

_ Wait. _

Ah. 

“It’s a reindeer, père,” Adrien says, smiling through his hands. “I think Dominic really liked the Yuletide story I told him while he was drawing earlier.” 

“I can tell,” he muses.

Dominic blinks innocently at him, blue doe-eyes so reminiscent of his mother’s that Gabriel can’t find it in him to disagree any further. He sets Dominic down and gestures for Adrien to come closer.

“Why don’t you go and get your drawing materials. Maybe you can tell papa what kind of reindeer you want."

"There are other kinds?" Dominic asks, awestruck.

* * *

Nathalie enters the atelier to see all three of her favorite Agrestes sitting on Gabriel’s pseudo-runway, busied by the piles of papers surrounding them. The click of the door alerts them of her presence, with Dominic's attention immediately on her while Adrien and Gabriel watch.

The youngest Agreste bolts at the sight of his mother, attempting to climb up Nathalie’s pants suit but fails because Nathalie scoops him into her arms, just like his papa had done earlier. He lets out a giggle when Nathalie pokes at his nose.

“Maman, maman! Papa promised Dominic a reindeer!” 

“Did he now?” Nathalie asks, staring at Gabriel as he shrugs.

“You know how persuasive he can be,” he says simply. 

Adrien takes this moment to slip past Nathalie, giving her a one-armed hug, which she would have returned had Dominic not attempted to hug his brother as well. He looks back to see  Gabriel standing as Nathalie approaches him with Dominic in tow.

* * *

“Ew! Adri!” 

From outside the atelier, Adrien hears his younger brother. 

“Papa is kissing maman all over!”


End file.
